


Christmas Looks Good On You

by BADAAX



Series: Silence Looks Good On You [2]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types, Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Christmas Smut, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Military AU, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9034955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BADAAX/pseuds/BADAAX
Summary: They say Christmas is for lovers, who they are is uncertain, but for Carmilla and Laura love is very much the order of business.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all once again! It seemed wrong to let, what has been a truly trying year, pass without once again delving into the world of Silence Looks Good On You. This is the 1st of a 2 part series celebrating the holidays and the end of the year. Ultimately these two one shots are just gratuitous smut lacking any real plot, but does that really matter? 
> 
> I hope everyone has a great Christmas whether you celebrate it or not. 
> 
> This story does not intend to cause offence to anyone. All situations appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblances to real life events are purely coincidental.

“Laura, Laura, Laura,” Her voice is low and quiet and filled with the danger you’ve come to expect from her. She scolds you with the use of your own name, the words a promise of things to come and a desire to see you tremble. She won’t have to try very hard. 

Your arms test the bonds holding you, straining against the rope wrapped carefully around your wrists. She’s laid you spread-eagled face down on your own bed, your arms tied to the headboard with soft rope and your ankles handcuffed to the bottom posts. You are without a doubt, completely at her mercy and that knowledge makes you wetter than you’ve been in a while.

Making love to Carmilla is never a dull moment, its always explosive and passionate and very, very, very good. She is all of your dreams wrapped into one dark package and you’d never change that for the world.

But, being fucked by your Master is a whole different experience in itself. It can be tender and as intense as your normal sex lives but it is so much more. This is still submission. This is giving up control to take it in a weird and wonderful way and although you no longer need it for therapy, both you and Carm have come to relish the roles you now play.

After you and Carmilla got together, Carm give up that part of her life. Her loyalty is to you and although your insecurities still fight you at every turn you have no recourse but to believe her when she whispers these things against your quivering lips. You can feel these certainties when she worships you with her body.

Submitting to Carmilla once more was a natural shift in your relationship. Both you and Carmilla need it, and the sex is beyond mind blowing. It is a moment for you both to slip into roles that help center who you’ve become. She needs to be the Master just as much as you need to be conquered by her. It’s a give and take and she gives so much. Now that Carmilla is your lover as well as your Master it has shifted the dynamic completely.

As she cradles you close, when all is said and done, her love for you steals your breath once again. But how you love the sensation of submitting to her completely. You press your face into the pillow beneath your head, teeth gripping it tightly.

“Now remember pet, you make a single sound and this will become decidedly less pleasurable for you,” Your Master coos, her painted fingers trailing across your exposed buttocks. She nips gently at your skin, each pass of her hands a torturous motion. You don’t know what she’s planning, but she’s in fine form and you can only tremble in anticipation.

Her hands disappear from your skin, her weight leaving the bed a second later and all you can do is twist your head from side to side in a vain attempt at seeing where she’s gone. She is almost silent, but you still hear the slide of her dresser drawer, desire shudders through you at the thought of what she might have found in there.

“You look so delectable laid out for me like this cupcake,” She all but purrs from somewhere behind you. You clench your eyes tightly at the sound, you can’t see her but you can imagine her prowling towards you all feline grace and sensuality. Your desire for her hasn’t diminished a single bit, in fact if anything it’s just gotten more potent. “I’m going to make you scream Miss Hollis, I want to hear you cry out my name as you come,” Her promise is dark and you have no doubt that she’ll follow through.

You bite the pillow again, begging yourself to remain silent you will not lose the game so soon. You almost gasp when she climbs back onto the bed, her legs placed either side of your left one, the injured one. She always chooses that one and you’ve come to know that it’s her subtle way of telling you that she doesn't care that you are damaged. She doesn’t care about the scars.

You stifle a groan when her wet heat presses against the back of your thigh. She’s removed her underwear and she is slick and dripping against your skin. You feel yourself get wetter at the sensation, though you didn’t think that was possible.

“Mmm, so helpless, so hot, so very wet” Her hands are back on your ass, they travel from the crease between your thigh and butt all the way up to your shoulders, pinching and trailing her fingernails across your inflamed skin. You’re on fire. She hasn’t even touched you were you need her yet and you’re already about to combust.

Your breath catches in your throat when she runs a lazy finger between your wetness, a second one joining a moment later rubbing gently at your labia. You are soaked and swollen but her verbal gag leaves you unable to articulate your need for her to go deeper, to push harder, to take you to heights you can only find with her.

She leans forward, her breasts pressing into your back, you can feel her nipples, turgid and sharp scraping against your shoulder blades as she undulates her hips. Her breaths are loud in your ear, her left arm plants itself above your head her fingers anchoring her in place. She keeps her other hand between your legs, gently teasing you as she rocks against your thigh. You wish you could read her mind, you wish you knew what her intentions where, but with the master it’s never clear until it’s almost too late.

“Remember if you make even so much as a squeak you will be punished my darling,” Her words are a reminder that there is much at stake in this game, you mentally set yourself for what you know is coming but then you remember that this is not just Carmilla, this is Master Carmilla and she doesn't play fair.

You hear the buzz of the toy before she places it against your skin. She sits up again and you instantly miss the warmth of her pressed against your back but a second later you’re not thinking of anything else other than not making a sound. You bite the pillow hard, your fingers curling into fists as all of your limbs jerk in their bonds.

You’re not sure what toy she has, all you know is that it’s not that small, it vibrates, it’s cold and it’s currently drawing a path between your swollen labia. She is merciless with it, teasing you with sure strokes before she drops her hand lower and presses the tip to your clit. Your muscles tense, your whole body clenching in glorious agony. Carmilla is so adept at playing you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

She holds the vibrator against your clit, moving it around in small circles overloading all of your senses with just how torturously good it feels. Her hips rock against yours, her wetness spreading across your thigh it feels so good to be used by her this way, to know you are merely a means to her end. She pumps a finger inside of you, crooking it, patiently working you up.

With the combination of the toy, her finger and your helplessness you know you are loosing the game. The pillow is ruined, ripped to shreds by your teeth and your breaths come thick and fast. You are seconds away from screaming your pleasure and begging Carmilla to let you come. You are desperate to hold on though, to not give her a reason to punish you. But this becomes utterly futile when she once again raises the stakes.

Her finger leaves you and you almost groan at how empty it makes you feel, however her fingers do not remain idle. She keeps the vibe on your clit and her now very wet finger slides between your ass cheeks the digit gently tracing the rim.

This is a new thing you started to explore recently, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t completely excite you and arouse you. She doesn't push her finger any further, she merely torments you with just the knowledge of it. You are breaking though, all of your resolve is crashing and falling apart and you just want to give in to it. She teases you, and mercilessly tortures your clit and you are helpless to it all and you know the game is up.

“Ugh, please! Master please I need to come!” Your words leave your mouth in an exhaled rush of air and although you can’t see her, you can just imagine the smug glint in Carmilla’s eyes. All at once her movement’s cease, her fingers withdraw, the toy is switched off, removed and you are left writhing and panting unable to find completion.

“Tut, tut, tut, I warned you about making noise. Now I’m going to have to punish you my pet,” She scolds you and if you weren’t so desperate to come you’d probably be trembling more at the promise in her voice. As it stands, your hips rock impotently against the bed sheets, a futile attempt at finding some friction to tip you over the edge. You know you probably look wanton and crazed but this is what she does to you.

“Hmm, let me see, I think it’ll be 1 hit with the crop for every word you spoke,” Carmilla, your master says and her words send shockwaves down your spine. She can do things with that crop of hers that defy the realms of logic. “Do you know how many words that was Miss Hollis?”

“E-eight master?” You stutter, surprised you have enough presence of self left to do mental arithmetic. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel the bed shift, a moan leaving you without provocation when Carmilla slides the soft leather of her favorite crop between your legs. You can feel how wet you are, you can only imagine the spread of moisture across the leather.

“That’s another two words, sweet thing, that brings us to ten in total. Even after all this time you still struggle to follow my commands. Now remember to say thank you after every one, see if you can follow this order,” Carmilla gives the command and this time you’re desperate to obey. Maybe she’ll let you come, because you know after this punishment you’ll be even more ready than you are now.

One. The first strike is placed squarely on the fleshy part of your right butt cheek, eliciting an aroused groan of desire. Carmilla places the crop against your skin with masterful precision, the weight, the placement, all a piece of the puzzle that only she knows how to put together.

Two. This one lands on your left butt cheek, painful enough to sting but tempered enough to make you ache with need.

Three and Four. One more for each cheek, harder this time but still so controlled.

Five, six and seven. The backs of your thighs and your perineum 

Eight. Labia.

Nine. Clit.

Ten. Clit.

Remember to breathe, she tells you.

Your bottom lip is raw, teeth biting at it desperately in an attempt to remain silent. Your muffled pants and groans of pained desire the only sound you make. You hope it’s enough. Your lower body is a mess of liquid fire, it’s the need to reach your end and the pain of Carmilla’s devotion. It all leaves you breathless and wanting.

Carmilla slides off the bed, the handcuffs around your ankles falling away. She pushes on your legs, urging you to bring them forwards keeping your face pressed into the pillow your legs spread lewdly and your aching center dripping and on show.

She climbs onto the bed behind you, fitting her body between your spread legs. Your fingers curl into fists at the feel of another toy rubbing between your legs.

“Seeing you wide open for me like this is so hot, you’re a beautiful woman pet and I’m going to reward you for being such a good girl and taking your punishment like you’ve been trained to,” Carmilla’s voice drips with sex and you’ve often wondered if her words alone would be enough to make your orgasm. On days like this you suspect the answer might be yes.

She places the tip of the toy against you, pushing her hips forward achingly slowly as it slides inside. You welcome the delicious stretch, reveling in the feel of Carmilla’s hips coming to rest snug against yours. Her hands slide round your front, fingers cupping your breasts and holding you close against her. Her hips grind against you, twisting the toy in deliciously tormenting circles, each one draws gasping yelps from your throat.

“Yes, yes,” Carmilla pants behind you, you can imagine how she looks, her head thrown back, neck stretched, pushing her hips forward in free abandon. You wish you could see her, but that’s not the scene she’s playing. Instead you screw your eyes tight, face pressed into the pillow as you lose all semblance of self. You’ll not be able to hold on much longer you know it.

“Please Master, please I need to come,” You groan the words, body tingling and on fire and ready to pivot over the edge. Carmilla slides one hand down your front, reaching for your clit and rubbing it in confident circles.

“You will come on the count of 5 and not a second before,” She orders you. “Five.”

It’s exquisite agony waiting for the countdown to be complete Carmilla’s pace picks up and the hand against your clit is almost painful.

“Four, three, two,” The next few numbers come quickly and you know she’s just as eager to finish this play.

“One,” The word is whispered against your ear before her lips find your neck sucking and biting on the skin as you fall over that dangerous precipice.

You cry out her name, eyes seeing stars you squeeze them together so tightly. Your fingernails bite into your palms and your teeth rip the pillowcase beneath you. Somewhere, far away you’re vaguely aware of Carmilla crying out her own release, her hips and her hands stilling against your body.

You slump forward, body trembling with aftershocks, the heat of Carmilla’s body following you down. She releases the bonds holding you, but your arms don’t move, you’re boneless and spent.

“Cupcake,” Carmilla whispers, lips pressing lightly against your cheek. You can feel her smile against your skin. The toys are gone, the bonds put away and now all that remains is you and the woman who is your world. She slips into the bed behind you, her arms sliding around your body, molding her front to your back.

You arch your body into her, pressing as close as is humanely possible. These are the moments that mean the most, the moments when it’s just you, skin against skin. She feels like home and the memories of war are just a distant echo that means so little here.

“Merry Christmas, Laura,” Carmilla says and your eyes settle on the tree in the corner of the room, the fairy lights twinkling. It’s your first Christmas together, the first of what you hope will be many.

“Merry Christmas, Carm. I love you,” You sigh, closing your eyes again and loosing yourself in her embrace. She’s enjoyed Christmas more than you thought she would, she’s built the gingerbread house you bought, she’s wore the terrible jumper and eaten her weight in cookies, and watched the awful movies. It’s these little moments that make you fall deeper and deeper for her. Christmas looks good on her and you wouldn’t change that for the world 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> As always please feel free to visit me at [badaax](http://badaax.tumblr.com).


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